


To Forget

by Later



Category: none tbh - Fandom
Genre: Memory Loss, Oneshot, Original work - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 11:45:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10490199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Later/pseuds/Later
Summary: The character loses their memory and discusses what its like to not be able to remember the most important time of their life.This is my first story to post, which is exciting. I wrote it for a class originally, and got a descent grade, so I figured I'd put it on here. Sorry if the grammar/spelling isn't the best, I haven't really looked over it too hard since I wrote it, which was forever ago. But anyways, enjoy :)





	

An instant. That’s all it takes really. Just a few seconds can ruin everything you’ve ever built up, everything you’ve ever tried to do. Everything you are. And instant is all it really takes to make a decision, no matter how important it is. An instant is all it takes to get hurt, to ruin yourself. All it ever is is in an instant. And an instant is all it take to forget. 

We think about forgetting the small things as nothing, that there are so many memories, a few forgotten doesn’t matter. But they do, they really do, and along with all our memories, sometimes we just forget that. Our minds wander far away from what we're doing, so we just lose a moment in time without even realising it.

There are so many things in this world I’d like to remember. So many people, so many songs, so many facts, so many stories, all of them I’ve forgotten. People say that that's normal, that it's okay to want to remember things, to want to know what happened. And I suppose it is good to have some desire to remember who you used to be, especially in my state.

After all, I forgot about my entire life.

I forgot about all the small things, big things, everything. Every small memory, every big achievement, every taste and smell and feeling that I felt for a whole year. A whole year. Just instantaneously my entire life crumbled into the abyss, and I suddenly lost every little thing, even the one’s I didn’t care about it. Now I regret not caring about it, not finding it important. Because it is important to remember who you are, especially after you’ve forgotten.

It's not like I forgot about my entire life, just a year. But everybody keeps saying that that year was super important. They say that in that year I won awards, wrote speeches, did everything possible, and they say it all to make me remember. But I can’t remember. I wish I could, that would be amazing, the person I was in that year sounds amazing. But that’s not me, at least not one that I can remember.

But, Honestly, I’m okay with the fact that that’s not me. As weird and onelove as I am, I do genuinely love the work that I do, as odd as it is. I love the late nights hanging out with my friends, the small things I do with the community centre, the quirky way that I write every essay, I love it all. Or I guess I loved it all. Before the new me came in, at least. Because, apparently, the new me is nothing like the old me. She loves doing major world-changing projects, writing less creatively and more effectively, and doesn’t go out with friends as often as she used to. I understand that that’s me, but it also certainly isn’t me. 

But people tell me that I resemble her- me- a lot. That Sometimes I’ll act like her, more organised and less laid back, and that I’ll do something she would typically do, or say something she would usually say. That, even though I’m back in the past, I’m still here, it’s just I don’t want to believe it. And that is technically correct, I don’t believe it. I don’t believe that those were things that I did, that that’s just who I was. I don’t believe that me, a fifteen year old community health freak, could have possibly come up with world changing ideas. My entire life all I’ve been is me, the kid who loves to volunteer, the unusually determined girl who adores what she does in minor capacities. All I’ve ever known, for certain at least, is who I was. My interests and passions and dislikes and personality. All I’ve ever known is my life. But that is certainly not my life. That is the life that people tell me I have, not the one I live. 

My parents told me first. “It was an accident,” they’d say “completely unpredictable”. Apparently I was on my was to some conference (I know, massive for a fifteen year old) to discuss my big plan on helping other countries when we hit a massive ice patch and skidded into another car. The driver died, apparently, and I was left fighting for my life. In the end though, I made it, I just didn’t know who I was at first. And I still don’t know who I am, to be honest, but I do know who I was, and I do know who I wanted to be. But what I really want to know, what bothers me the most, is the little things. I forgot most of my life in that crash, and as weird as it is, all I miss is the little things. I know about the big ones, the general idea at least, but it's the little ones that I really miss, even if they’re boring. I know it sounds crazy, to not care about forgetting the big plans and instead wanting to know the small things, but it's true. 

I forgot the little things, the things that made up who I was, all in an instant. I forgot who I was, my personality, my honest, truthful self, and that scares me. I forgot who I was in an instant, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned from losing the little things, is to not ever, ever, forget.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? I'm curious, so I would love to hear some feedback in the comments. I hope you enjoyed, but if not, kindly scroll away, no need to hate. Have a nice day/night (it's usually around 11 PM when I read, so you never know).


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